


Earth Never Stops

by TheDarkFlygon



Series: Morbulogy (Sickfics) [7]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Diamond & Pearl & Platinum | Pokemon Diamond Pearl Platinum Versions
Genre: (very) Light Angst, Artistic License: Mines, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Shinoh-chihou | Sinnoh, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-02-28 18:10:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13277058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkFlygon/pseuds/TheDarkFlygon
Summary: Oreburgh Mine is Sinnoh’s only remaining source of coal and, as such, serves as its main source of electricity alongside Flowey Meadows’ countless wind turbines. It contains enough resources for years to come, but what may be more interesting to the casual tourist visiting the region is the presence of fossils in its rocks, waiting to be discovered between two coats of black ore.As such, it requires constant functioning and there has to be someone to manage the miners, right?Well, it works until the main gear fails: the foreman is, after all, only human.(or: Flygon got a plot bunny about a sickfic and now she's writing light angst or something, so its name is "mine sickfic")





	1. Oreburgh Mines

**Author's Note:**

> Someone will have to smack my head into oblivion so I don't write that kind of shit ever again. I'm sorry for this, even if I know I'll probably continue to write it beyond reason. Let's hope this isn't the new Symphonie Cacophonie lmao  
> The OCs are cameos of my PDV characters Luc Parillot (Luke) and Timothée "Tim" Ethan (Timothy).
> 
> Huge thanks to Magnetism and their Auraverse, whose Roark's been an inspiration for my own interpretation of the character.  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/10698855  
> It's some good stuff so please check it out, it's worth a read much more than what you're about to read because it has more plot than, essentially, "mine sickfic".
> 
> I have to expose some headcanons and stuff which count in this story:  
> -I headcanon the Nurse Joy who appears in this as a "doctor" because she can also diagnose humans. Such a famous mine would have at least a bit of security, wouldn't it?  
> -I know Machop is used for mining in the games, but I also added Geodude because it's literally a punching rock who can learn Rock Smash.  
> -I don't know what a foreman does in a mine despite living in the north of France and having seen mine history here and there. Turns out having once visited a terril and Roubaix's La Piscine museum isn't enough to make you versatile in mining history and functioning. Hell, I even had to Google what a foreman was because I'm that terrible.
> 
> Writing got me thinking: can you get OOC a character who doesn't have much dialogue in their original material?

Oreburgh Mine is Sinnoh’s only remaining source of coal and, as such, serves as its main source of electricity alongside Flowey Meadows’ countless wind turbines. It contains enough resources for years to come, but what may be more interesting to the casual tourist visiting the region is the presence of fossils in its rocks, waiting to be discovered between two coats of black ore.

As such, it requires constant functioning and there has to be someone to manage the miners, right? The role goes to the foreman, who is always up. In any case, there’s a substitute, but he’s usually not in Oreburgh City since the foremen seems to have an iron health. Someone working in the mines would joke that their previous foreman eventually became Canalave City’s Iron-type Gym Leader.

 

The following and current foreman is the youngest they’ve had yet. Byron used to bring his son to the mine from time to time since the latter was a child, and some of the eldest miners remembered seeing a newly born Roark, twenty years before. It was like he was born with a pickaxe in his hands, and he was already excavating fossils when he was in elementary school. What was once a tease of Byron, “your son is gonna replace you before we know it”, became reality when the foreman left Oreburgh City for Canalave City, called by the League themselves to take care of its Gym after its previous Leader had retired.

Nobody was really surprised when the boy, the eighteen-year-old boy mind you, was picked by Byron as his successor. It was as if they had always been around Roark, and it had “only” been a bit more than a decade, but the transition felt natural. It didn’t mean he didn’t remain in the shadow his father, foreman for twenty years before him, to whom the miners were all attached, and some considered him their own father, in some way.

 

The foreman sub’s been missing for the twenty-fifth week in a row. “Where in the hell could he be?” isn’t a real question in the mines anymore: it’s more of a private joke. A question nobody really cares for the answer, and usually it’s replaced by the latest, funniest place to put in a conversation. Last time, it was someone’s ass. Maybe comedy isn’t their forte, but as long as it makes the other miners laugh, it’s all right.

Today, Luke is asking the question to Tim, who simply replies “In Canalave’s Gym, right where Former Boss lost to a ten-year old girl and her Gastrodon”. Tim then shots a look in their current foreman’s direction, only to notice he doesn’t even cringe at the teasing of his own dad.

 

“Boss,” Tim calls out, “you heard me? Your dad lost to a Gastrodon of everything. How ridiculous is that?”

“Oh, right,” the foreman responds with delay, “that’s right. Gastrodon. Canalave Gym.” He forces a snicker out of his mouth.

“How’s the Gym going?” Luke asks. It’s been ages since he’s taken a break in the Gym. Last time, he got to see a blonde-haired girl beat the Gym with a Turtwig and a Starmie of everything.

“It’s going… well I guess. I broke my latest lose streak yesterday…”

 

Luke and Tim look at each other. The former shots another look at Roark while the second one orders their Machops to work a bit on their own for now. Once they both thumb up each other, they get closer just so they can speak about stuff their foreman shouldn’t hear them talking about.

“There’s something wrong about the boss,” Luke tells him in a whisper. “He’s quieter than usual.”

“He may just be tired,” Tim replies, almost shrugging off Luke’s worried expression. “The boy’s also a Gym Leader and whatnot.”

“I could have sworn he was usually the first one to make jokes about how busy his life is. He doesn’t even bother with our jokes today!”

“Your dad instincts are playing again. This isn’t your daughter we’re speaking about, it’s the boss. Byron’s blood runs in his veins, he’s fine.”

 

Tim still looks at their foreman. His own face doesn’t seem as confident in his beliefs as before.

“On second thought, the boss looks a bit weird. He’s a bit slow too.”

“Right? The sub’s not here though, so he can’t entirely leave us without having another foreman to make sure it’s secure.”

“I don’t want to interrupt you on purpose, but I think he’s looking this way. Let’s go back to work and discuss that after lunch.”

 

While he mines, Tim stumbles upon what looks like a fossil, a weird one of that. He swears he has never seen such a fossil before, despite having worked there for twenty years. His scientist of a husband walks behind him.

“Mark,” he calls him out, “come check out that fossil. I don’t think I’ve seen one like that before.”

The scientist walks to the rock and examines it carefully with his gloves and glasses.

“It’s a Helix Fossil. They’re usually found in Kanto, but there are some in the Underground. It’s very rare to see such a big one in a mine.”

“What about we tell the boss? I’m sure he’s going to lost it in front of it!”

“I’ll let you get him then.”

 

That’s what Tim does. He goes the fastest he can to his foreman, who’s in another part altogether of the mine, probably making sure the Machops trained to dig alone do their job correctly and safely. He swears he can hear some pants and maybe some coughing echoing between the rocky walls. Finding him and his red hard hat isn’t difficult, and it doesn’t take long for the miner to join his “boss”.

“Boss, Boss, I found something incredible! Come check it out!” he screams in the mine, getting the attention of Pokémons around him.

“What is it…?” a weak voice replies to him, as the foreman turns towards him. His helmet isn’t put on correctly, which is weird for someone as cautious as him on security for everyone inside the mine.

“I found a very rare fossil according to Mark. I thought I should at least tell you so you can check it out later.”

“Works for me… Oh, if you’re here, can you check out on the other miners for me a bit? Tell them I’ll check up on them once I’m done here…”

“Sure thing, Boss.”

“Thank you…”

 

Tim finally gets what Luke meant earlier. He would ask him if he was alright, or something alike, but he has a job to do and the boss probably doesn’t like to be bothered with such questions. He’s probably just tired and focused on whatever he’s doing. He’s a bit hesitant to get to his previous working spot, but he still makes his way there.

Suddenly, he feels something grapping his pants. He looks at what could possibly be clutching his leg: a Geodude. Wait, this can’t be a wild Geodude, there isn’t any wild Pokémon left in that zone of the mine. The fluorescent band it has around its left arm immediately tells him it belongs to the boss. It seems to cry for help.

 

Tim lowers to the rock Pokémon’s level.

“What is it, big guy?” he asks it.

Geodude points to the back of this section of the mine with its other arm, its face void of its usual anger, replaced with worry. What can it possibly be worried for? This doesn’t reassure the miner at all.

“You want me to follow you there?”

The Rock-type Pokémon jumps around a bit as it lets go of his pants before starting to make his way to where they both come from. Tim decides to follow: there may be someone trapped under rocks that fell, or there may be an Aron they need to take care of.

 

He decides to run back there instead of walking, as he’s afraid someone got jeopardized. On the way there, he recognizes the specially-trained Machops looking a bit panicked, just like the Geodude he’s following. This doesn’t sit well within him: the only person he’s seen there for a while is Roark. If their foreman has found death between rocks, they’re pretty much fucked for the remaining century. They’ll probably all get fired too. He doesn’t realize he’s crossing fingers.

The Geodude, unfortunately, brings him where he spoke to his boss barely minutes ago. The lack of light, which he finds weird because it was lit just fine before, makes it so he has to turn on his own helmet’s headlight. He can hear the usual sound of pants, something entirely ordinary in itself, aside form the fact he’s never heard these pants in particular. This can’t be good at all.

 

The miner stops right in his track as the Geodude goes next to the person lying on the floor of the mine. This can’t be possible. He must be in some kind of weird dream, and he has to find a way to wake up. He still runs to the lying body, just like the Pokémon before him.

“Boss?!” he yells as he kneels next to the other man. “Hey, Boss, this isn’t time to sleep! You gotta wake up, this is a mine!”

Tim puts a hand on his shoulder and shakes it off in an attempt to wake the guy up, to no success. He just knows he’s alive: he can hear his breathing, which sounds ragged if not difficult.

“What the fuck do I do…?” Tim says to himself, truly wondering what he can do with an unconscious Roark, the latter’s pickaxe and excavation kit, a Geodude and five autonomous Machops around him. The pickaxe and the kit can wait, really. The Pokémons, a bit less. He just hopes the only idea he has will work…

 

His foot hits a lone Pokéball which rolls until he grabs it. He finds five of them near it, all marked with a special sticker representing the Coal Badge on them.

“Geodude, come back,” he says as he points the ball towards the Pokémon in question, successfully calling him back. He’s surprised that even worked.

“Guys, you too, come back,” he then says as he points each ball to the Machop group, once again ending in pure success. He puts away the balls in the bag near him before taking it and putting it over his shoulder.

 

It’s with a pained look and an ache in his heart that he takes his foreman in his arms. He feels incredibly light for a miner: it may be him who is pretty strong, or the boy being a lightweight when he’s unconscious, or just both at the same time. He’ll ask for the guys to get the pickaxe and kit later: for now, there’s something more urgent than recovering some mining tools, no matter how important they are to Roark.

It takes a bit of time, and Tim feels like he’s carrying a statue made out of glass when, clearly, he shouldn’t. He braces himself for everybody else’s reaction: he just hopes it’s not too bad, otherwise they’ll have issues, and nobody wants to cause a coal lack in the entire region, not to mention none of them want harm to their foreman for Arceus’s sake!

 

He gets to remember it’s noon and lunch time when he reaches his usual zone of work, which is next to the entrance, so not many people are around. The less, the better. However, the nearest infirmary-like area he knows of is already outside of the mines: he has to walk past everyone else to bring their boss where someone can say what exactly happened to him.

Luke spots him from the entrance and runs to him, his own face filled with anything but joy.

“What happened to him?!” he screams, eyes fixated on the carried one.

“I don’t know… I was telling him about the fossil discovery I had made, but as I left his Geodude grabbed my leg and made me follow it, and when I arrived he was already knocked out…” Tim replies. “We don’t have time to waste, I have to bring him somewhere.”

“Wait a second. I need to check something…”

 

Luke rises the foreman’s helmet a little and puts his naked hand first on his forehead, then on the other man’s one, before almost cringing in a hiss.

“That’s what I thought. He’s running one hell of a fever man.”

“A fever?! He’s been sick all that time?! Quick, we have to run to the infirmary! Inform the others please!”

“Roger that.”

 

Tim isn’t walking at the speed of a Dunsparce now: no, he’s fucking running for someone else’s life to their infirmary, hoping there’s their usual doctor there. He can trust Dr Taylor to be there, right? She’s always there for them, she’ll be there for Roark too. That’s one unusual case for them all, and he hopes his hardest it’ll be alright.

Honestly, he’s afraid shitless when he kicks the door to knock, his hands obviously unavailable to do so. The pink-haired woman opens the door and she looks like she’s going to scold the hell out of him for kicking the door.

 

“Hello, Timothy. What is it that makes you behave like a Growlithe all of a…” she starts to tell him before her voice comes to a halt.

As soon as she sees his face then lowers her eyes, her face takes a sharp turn.

“Oh goodness… Put him on the bed,” she reacts as her thumb points to the inside, “I’ll see what’s wrong.”

 

He executes her orders and, soon enough, they’re both in the room, looking over the third person in the bed. After taking off the red helmet, he lets her examine his boss, more anxious than he’s been in ages, as she silently works on him.

“What does he have, doctor?” Tim asks.

“It seems like exhaustion and overwork has caught to him,” she replies in a much calmer voice. “He should be all right as long as he rests for a few days.”

“But…”

“Before you say it,” Dr Joy replies in a sadder tone, “I know Mr Roark has a very busy life and probably can’t afford many break days, especially since the summer rush is about to start. However, I can’t let him work when he overworked himself to illness like this.”

“Then, what can we do?”

“We’ll have to see that as soon as possible. I’ll have to call the substitute foreman by myself to justify his suddenly needed presence… Please go take your break, Timothy. Just tell the other miners about the situation, will you?”

“Sure thing. See ya later, Dr Joy.”

“See you.”

 

Tim can’t shake the situation off his head as he walks to his friends and workmates, lost in thoughts, hoping someone finds a solution real fast unless they all want to get in some serious troubles. The less they see the director of Fuego Inc, the better, especially when Roark isn’t here to discuss the matter with his own boss.

He sits next to Mark and unpacks his lunch as he summarizes the situation, a work already started by Luke. The summery air of early June around them all feels heavy, all of a sudden.


	2. Major Ailment Underreaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's painful to come to, and he doesn't recognize the room is in, but one thing's sure: it's not a cave, nor a mine, nor his place.  
> What happened to him, anyway?   
> Roark has thousand questions coming to his mind, and Joy is salty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I the only one who has this feeling of... comfort whenever I write another character, to the point I don't know if it's OOCness or not?  
> I sure do feel it there.

The light, slowly coming back to him, burns his eyes as Roark comes to, or wake up, he isn’t really sure. His head is pounding, that’s for sure. Did he hit it against the rock walls? Maybe. Maybe not. If that’s the case, he hit a large part of it, and maybe its insides. Everything’s foggy, really. His vision is still a bit blurry: he taps his face, realizes his hand is somehow naked, his muscles ache, he doesn’t have his glasses on. Oh, that makes sense.

It doesn’t feel like he’s in a mine though… His sight may be blurry, but he can still tell mines are supposed to be brown, grey, black, not white. Where is he, actually? He doesn’t have his glasses, nor his gloves, and after checking, he doesn’t even have his helmet. What happened, exactly? What the hell is this?

 

He feels… drained. His entire body aches, so it’s probably the end of the day. Huh, weird, he doesn’t even remember battling the Trainers trying to get the Coal Badge. Is he usually that oblivious and forgetful? He knew he was tired, but geez, that’s a whole other level of exhaustion then. What hour is it, on second thought?

Holding his head, the foreman tries to sit up, only to get overtaken by dizziness, then by a painful urge to cough. His nose feels a bit stuffy too, but that’s nothing compared to what Purugly is trying to claw its way out of his throat. Except for his cough, and the bed cringing, it’s a complete silence. This can’t be the mine, nor the Gym, and it doesn’t feel like home. Where is he, then?

 

He hears footsteps, only to notice his hearing is muffled. There is no nightstand to smash in order to find his glasses, or his helmet, or anything. Why are there so much confusing and painful things going on all of a sudden?

“Oh, you’re awake!” says a feminine voice, which he attributes to the footsteps. “How are you doing, Mr Roark?”

“W-where am I…?” he asks. The voice belongs to their own Doctor Joy. This can’t be good.

“In the infirmary. I should have expected you to feel disoriented and confused about what happened to you in the mine. Your helmet protected you from maybe getting a concussion, there’s that already.”

“What happened…? I’m afraid I don’t understand what’s going on…”

His voice is groggy and painful to use. He’ll have to spare it if he doesn’t want to go voiceless by the end of the day, if end of the day it’s not.

 

She hands him something: his glasses. He senses a small smile creep up on his mouth as he puts them on, finally seeing somewhat clearly. That feels so much better already. She sits next to him, putting the case she was holding on the ground.

“Timothy found you unconscious in the mine, all thanks to your Geodude. It seems like you collapsed while watching over your Machops.”

He wants to yell, but instead, he just speaks in a whisper.

“Collapse…?! I probably just knocked my head on something…”

“Then how do you explain _this_?”

 

Joy gets a thermometer out of her case, cleans it and inserts it inside his mouth as he’s about to ask what he’s supposed to explain. The fact it instantly beeps is no good for him. She gets it out, looks at it and points it to him. It reads something like thirty-nine…

“This. As far as I’m concerned, knocking your head on a rock doesn’t make you spike a fever.”

“Huh… I didn’t know I had a fever…”

“Considering you don’t remember what happened before you blacked out, I can’t say I’m surprised that you weren’t aware that you were ill.”

“Didn’t you say I collapsed…? This isn’t the same as being ill, right…?”

“Overworking yourself can make you sick, which you did. It seems like you’ve developed a cough too.”

 

He doesn’t comment, at least out loud. He wishes he could ask her what she would do if she had a Gym and a mine to keep running, but she would tell him to give up on either of them, and he doesn’t want to do that.

“Lucky for us all, your substitute is available and will take care of the mine during your recovery.”

Her voice stops, and she looks at him with anger in her eyes. If his throat wasn’t hurting like a Infernape had put fire to it, he would gulp.

“Do you know irresponsible of you that was to come to work in such a condition?!” she then scolds him, which he was both expecting and unexpecting.

“W-what…?!”

 

He expected to be scolded for having more or less failed at his foreman job. He wasn’t supposed to black out, he was supposed to keep an eye over otherwise Trainer-less Pokémons. What if one or more of them had run free into the mine or, worse, the city? Safety concerns were compromised because of him.

She’s still scolding him for being irresponsible, that’s true, but instead she’s scolding him for an entirely different kind of irresponsibility. He compromised his own safety, after all, since he hadn’t warned anybody he was going to lose consciousness. What if Timothy hadn’t found him? What if his Geodude hadn’t found and brought anyone else to where he was?

 

“You’re the miners’ foreman, Mr Roark! The least you can do is pay attention to yourself, right? I thought you were the level-headed, down-to-Earth son. Your father acted by instinct, but the miners entrust you with their own safety, right?”

“R-right… But that means someone got injured, no?”

His voice’s shaking, just like he’s shivering. Is this his fever or is it that cold in there?

“Fortunately, no one got injured, not even you. You’re quite lucky to not have done so, since you were probably holding a pickaxe. But you’re side-tracking me there!”

“T-then what’s the issue, exactly…?”

She sighs, exasperated.

“You really don’t see it, don’t you? You _collapsed_! You’re supposed to have everyone’s safety in check, isn’t it? I don’t think this is a good model you’re giving to your fellow miners there, Roark. Why did you not tell anyone you were feeling under the weather?”

“I… I didn’t feel that bad this morning… Just a bit more tired than usual…”

She has suspicious eyes over him, then gets out a stethoscope from the case.

“Enough. It’s about time I exactly know what’s wrong, don’t you think?”

He simply nods. He can feel his energy, or whatever’s left it, dwindle.

 

The examination doesn’t last for long. Heartbeats here, breathing cycles there, blood pressure, the usual shtick. Well, as usual as someone who never gets sick can get used to, even if he’ll have to come back on that last statement. It’s over before he can fall asleep (again?). She had to support him from falling over, though. He didn’t know he was that tired, seriously, that’s impressive exhaustion he’s got there.

“I confirm my earlier diagnosis: this is mostly overexertion, coupled with a small summer cold. Nothing you couldn’t get rid off with plenty of rest.”

Here comes the touchy topic. His father warned him when he appointed him foreman and, by the way, Gym Leader.

 

Doctor Joy sighs again, this time sporting a small, saddened smile.

“I know what’s going through your mind right now. You have a lot of responsibilities to shoulder now that Byron has left for Canalave. You don’t have much time for yourself outside of the Gym and the mine, we all know this, but you can’t afford to exhaust yourself like this, okay? I know I must sound like your mom, but you really scared all of us.”

“I should go see them, I need to explain myself before I let anything happen.”

“I’m afraid you can’t. For now, you’re on bedrest.”

He doesn’t have the energy to really contest the decision, as much as it pains him.

“Fine…”

 

She makes him a small smile as she gets further from the bed.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have someone to tell about this, after I’ve taken care of the Pokémon part of this infirmary…”

“If it’s not too indiscreet of me,” he coughs out, “who is this?”

“None other than your father.”

 

She leaves the room before he can even try to convince her not to do so. He doesn’t want him to know of everyone who has ever been related to the mine, or the Gym, or the city.

“My dad has other responsibilities, you shouldn’t bother him with that…”

He both means it and uses his father’s busy schedule between the Gym and training on Iron Island as an excuse. He just doesn’t want him to know, for a bunch of reasons, mainly revolving around getting taught like a naughty child not to let himself wither away like that. Showing him a fossil won’t be enough to get away from the situation.

“I’m not letting you go back home alone.”

He can feel sweat pearling down his temples. This is no good.

“Listen. I’m sure you don’t want anyone to worry for you, because you’re the first one to think this is a minor thing and that you have a ton of things to think about and do, and that everybody else in this case to. Thing is, it’s not minor. This is serious, and if you don’t let yourself time to rest, you’ll keep collapsing until nobody will be able to get you back. One time is enough, don’t you think?”

 

She’s so right, it’s almost painful for him to admit it. He just didn’t realize until the moment he’s half-sitting half-lying in the infirmary, memory foggy and head aching, how ridiculously exhausting his way of living was.  He needs to find a better way to balance between his two responsibilities and his own well-being… But that’ll have to wait, for now, he can feel everything biting him all of a sudden.

The doctor walks to a neighbour room, where he knows there is a videocall device, leaving him all on his own to rethink all of his life choices. He still has a ton of questions about the situation: where are the Pokémons that were with him? What happened to them?

 

A small knock at the door is followed by a familiar face coming in: Tim. Roark doesn’t exactly know whether or not to be happy about seeing him or being slightly scared about what discussion may happen. Honestly, he would sleep until the world ended, and his eyes are closing on their own, but it’s probably better to reassure his fellow miner about his predicament. Instead, he tries to smile at him, but that’s not working.

“Boss, you’re ok?” Tim asks, in a strangely low, hushed-down voice.

“Somewhat… It’s not much, really, I’ll just be unavailable for a while, I guess...”

Tim takes a seat on the stool.

“You scared us so much, man. At least, you’re just sick, right? That’s going to be difficult without you for a bit, but we’re relieved.”

 

The foreman feels like he has to apologize.

“About that… Sorry for scaring everyone. I… didn’t feel too bad this morning, but it seems like I underestimated how tired I was. How are the others?”

“They’re doing alright, especially now that we all know you’re safe and sound. Don’t worry for us, you’re the unwell here. We just wanted to check up on you, and they sent me to do so.”

“Can I ask you something very quick, Tim…?”

His voice was as tired as he was.

“Yeah?”

“Do you have any idea as to what happened back then? I… I don’t remember anything…”

 

The taller miner blinked in surprise. Why he was that surprised was beyond Roark’s understanding, at least for now.

“Well… I found a very rare Helix fossil while mining for coal, so I felt like I had to inform you, which I did. You seemed pretty out of it, but told me you would check it up later and you asked me to then check up on the others for you. I said yes, and started to make my way to my working spot again, until your Geodude clutched my leg and brought me back to you. That’s where I found you knocked out, with the Machops looking panicked about it. I guess you just passed out while I had my back turned.”

“I see…”

“The more I think about it,” Tim continued, “the more obvious it was that you were not doing so well. You were slow, barely reacting to whatever was around you, as if you were lost in thought you know? That was pretty weird.”

 

Somehow, the fact his fellow miners could notice he wasn’t doing well felt good. It meant they knew him enough to care about his wellbeing, after all.

“So this is how things were, huh… Guess I’ll have to be more careful next time…”

He didn’t expect a huge coughing fit to get out of his mouth. It burns.

“Roark, you’re sure you’re alright? What do you have, exactly?”

“If I’m not wrong,” he rasps out, breathless, “a summer cold… and an overwork fever of sorts…”

“It sounds like you were having a rough time over here”, the other miner comments. “We would have never guessed until today. I should let you rest now, Doctor Joy insisted on that.”

He gets up.

“Get better soon, Roark.”

“See you soon…”

 

Tim then leaves the room, not looking behind him. Silence overcomes the small room of the infirmary yet again, no footsteps to be heard, until the foreman hears a familiar sound coming from the neighbour room.

The sound of a videocall device. The sweat he feels pearling down his temples isn’t due to his condition: it’s about to get tougher from now on. What did she wait for to call his father, anyway?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said to Lordi in our Discord convo: "I hope I did the rock bishie justice"
> 
> Oh, yeah, you may have Tim eventually using "Roark" instead of "Boss".   
> I've hesitated for ages because it felt a bit weird with the backstory I've given of Oreburgh Mine's miners and foreman. Tim is like... twice Roark's age and something around Byron's age (spoiler for chapter 3 lmao). I guess "boss" is just a shtick, but once said "boss" is confined to bedrest, father instincts or something are playing up and it's just not the same. Maybe. I confuse myself over pointless topics.


	3. Iron in the Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Earth Never Stops", now with 150% more Byron!   
> Maybe I should add "Artistic License: Pokémon Gyms" to the tags.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so: Byron.  
> As much as I'm pretty clear of what my interpretation of Roark is (based mostly on the game dialogue, and a tiny bit on the anime because they don't clash too much), Byron is a tougher case. Most people make him a Large Ham who loves holes and Bastiodon and fossils, and he speaks like a pirate. However, since I officially picked gameverse for this story, I had to go with the more serious version from the games (and a tiny bit of the manga), even if honestly I based my Byron on two dads: Luc Parillot, from PDV, and my own dad.  
> Honestly he's a secondary character who barely has dialogue, what am I even doing with my life? My French teacher would slap me to oblivion if he found my AO3 account. 
> 
> Also, side note: by doing a quick search on FF.net for funsies this morning while riding the train to college, I found out I'm not the only one who thought about a Roark sickfic (well, it you can call both of them so). I can't say I exactly enjoyed my reading of it, but if the person who wrote it ever reads this, I just want to tell them I hope they continued writing, because while it was heavy-handed and felt like it was a first time, it didn't have any major flaw. 
> 
> I may use something else but "sickfic" to describe my work though, since it's not that focused on the illness as much as it allows me to study character relationships and personality... This isn't really whump for the sake of whump anymore, huh.

“Good job, you’re a strong one! Here’s ya’ Mine Badge, young gal! You’re getting’ closer to the League, y’know? Good luck for Snowpoint!”

A young Trainer is receiving a Badge from the local Gym Leader, the loud and locally famous Byron, who holds the small emblem in a hand and his shovel in the other. His large grin doesn’t tell much about the fact he just got beaten by an aspiring Champion, except for the words coming out of it.

The girl leaves the Gym, putting away the Badge inside a small case, smiling softly to her battered Magmar, as the Leader decides to make his way the local healing station for his entirely knocked-out Gym team.

 

While he waits for his Pokémons to be healed, a Trainer of the Gym runs to him, clutching his unattached helmet so it doesn’t fall off his head.

“Mr Byron! There’s a call for you!” he yells in his general direction, reaching him in a hurry.

“A call, for me? From where?”

“Oreburgh Mine. They specifically called for you, so we couldn’t take care of it ourselves.”

Byron seems to ponder upon the question, or at least seems a bit bothered about having to answer a goddamn call in the middle of his otherwise battling afternoon.

“Any remainin’ challenger for the day?”

“It doesn’t seem like so, sir.”

“I’ll get it then.”

 

He walks to the Gym’s videocall device, still a bit annoyed about the whole ordeal. It better be worth the time he could have spent in battles, training or mining for fossils. He answers the oncoming call, whose source indeed is Oreburgh City.

“Byron of Canalave Gym, what is it?”

Joy’s familiar face comes onto the screen, and instantly things are taking a sharper turn. It’s unusual for him to get a call from the mine’s doctor.

“Hello, Mr Byron. This is Dr Joy, of Oreburgh Mine. I know you’re a tight schedule, so I’ll make it quick.”

She takes a deep inhale, seeming scared of what she’s about to tell him.

“I’m afraid we need a sub foreman for the days to come.”

She immediately buries her head into her hands, as if this wasn’t what she meant to say. Nevertheless, it picks his interest immediately.

 

“Ya need he sub foreman? He’s not available?”

Then it hits his head.

“Why the sub foreman in the first place?!”

There’s a feeling he doesn’t like in the slightest rising inside his chest.

“I meant to say, Mr Roark is currently unable to assure both his Gym and foreman responsibilities.”

“What do ya mean? What happened to him?!”

 

Surrounding, resting workers and Trainers of the Gym are looking in his direction, mostly bearing pained looks. Even a challenger, who has just arrived there to battle against some workers for experience, seems puzzled and worried all the same.

“Sir,” he asks to the worker next to him, “what’s wrong with the Leader?”

“It seems like his son got in some deep trouble,” the man replies. “You probably know him, if you’re here to challenge Byron. He’s Oreburgh’s Gym Leader.”

The boy goes quiet and simply looks in the videocall’s direction. This may be time to think of a strategy, or to go back to the Centre because there’s no way a distressed father is going to challenge him fairly.

 

The pink-haired woman seems a bit scared by the father’s screaming, before she proceeds telling him, “we need to take care of his responsibilities while he’s incapacitated”. Byron’s face distorts as soon as he hears what it’s all about, clutching fists.

“I’ve to go to Oreburgh as soon as possible. Thanks for telling me, have a nice day.”

He then hangs out the phone without waiting for an answer, almost drops his shovel and runs out the Gym. The challenger attempts to call for the Leader, before the same worker he asked before puts a hand on his shoulder.

“It seems like Byron has to take care of something. You’ll have to come back later, sorry.”

 

The Gym’s agent reaches to the Leader.

“Sir, where are you going? There’s a new challenger that’s waiting for you!”

He has zero time for battles right now, so he just turns to the man and screams his reply at him.

“I’ve got urgent stuff to attend in Oreburgh! Tell them to come back when I’ll be back, I dunno how long, I’ll try to call the Gym or somethin’ to inform y’all. Goodbye!”

He runs far, far away from the Gym, and jumps into his truck, setting sail to Oreburgh, which is a couple hours away from Canalave, crossing the sea separating it from Jubilife City.

 

While driving, he gets to think about anything but the Gym and fossils. Actually, the only thing he can think of right now is happened in Oreburgh. That’s all he wants to know right now, because that scares him much more than he thought it would.

Roark never caused him much issues. He’s always been a good kid, with a passion for fossils just like his dad, but Byron’s starting to think he may have overestimated his son’s maturity and ability to multitask. He legitimately thought Roark could handle it, and he needed to become his own person outside of his father’s shadow, yet there he was driving to Oreburgh because his son couldn’t handle the endeavours of wearing two hats at once.

 

When he arrives in the City of Energy, Byron just rushes to the mine. On the way there, he gets saluted by miners and inhabitants, some asking what brought him back to Oreburgh in the middle of the week, others why he seems in such a hurry. In any case, he doesn’t have the time to answer them: he just replies “hello” or “hi”, smiles at his former workmates.

He hasn’t been in this infirmary much. The last time he had, it was for a sprained wrist from making a wrong move with it, and that was it really. He dislikes that place, because it’s always the place of catastrophes and injuries, but he can’t bring himself to dislike their doctor or her job. He’s even forever thankful for and owing her, in a way, especially today.

He clearly didn’t foresee himself coming back to his natal Oreburgh when he woke up this morning.

 

He knocks on the door, trying to retain his anger in. Anger at what, he doesn’t exactly know. Maybe himself, for more or less letting this all happen. Maybe Roark, for not handling things the way he should had, and by that not listening enough to his father’s advice. He gets a “yes” and enters, opens the door to the room with the bed, the doctor standing there and, in said bed, his own son.

“Hello again, Byron. Thank you very much for coming so quickly,” she says.

“Comin’ there was the least of my issues. Mind lettin’ me talk to my son for a bit? One-on-one?”

“Of course not.”

 

She leaves the room right after agreeing to his request, disappearing in the corridor while he goes to sit on the stool next to the bed. Roark is looking away, with nothing to hide his face now that his helmet is out of his reach. It seems like he knew he had it coming, as if he had foreseen his father coming to Oreburgh just because he messed up badly.

None of them talks, letting a heavy silence settle in the infirmary, thick and uncomfortable. Byron doesn’t exactly know what to tell his son. Usually he would have scolded him, maybe making fun of his awful decisions to show him what it’s all about, but he has to take in account something: his son is ill. He knows, for a fact because that’s a common point they share, that for Roark to get sick, it has to take a deep dose of exhaustion.

 

“So… Ya know why I’m here, right?” he asks, almost expecting no answer to his question.

“…Yes” is all he gets, and even then, he can tell something: his son’s voice is awful. He sounds like he inhaled an entire pack of coal. Cough obviously ensues. It bothers Byron heavily that he won’t even look at him, but on the other hand, he can’t possibly yell at him right now. So he just breathes in, breathes out, and clutches his fists.

“Roark. Look at me. Don’t run away from the situation.”

Somehow, that manages to make the boy turn his face towards him, and Byron gets to learn one thing more: not only does he sound awful, but he has an appearance to match. He can’t remember him looking so pale before, and even behind his glasses, he can see the deepest dark rings he has even seen, almost as black as coal ore.

There’s an overwhelming pain in his chest, pinching his heart. That’s even sickening, in a way: Byron had seen countless injured miners, in all flavours of hurts, from bruises to broken and bleeding limbs, but he had never prepared himself to see his own son in such a bad shape.

 

Roark lowers his glaze, an attempt at smiling creeping on his face.

“I probably look terrible… Sorry for making you come here, I know you’re busy…”

“That’s one thing ya got from ya mom, huh, apologizin’ for a yes or a no. Ya ain’t apologizin’ for the right reasons, young man.”

He can’t tell if Roark is blinking because he’s surprised, or just because his eyes are shutting down on their own. It’s like he’s talking to a machine whose battery is between one and zero remaining percent.

“W-what…?”

“C’mon, I’m sure Joy’s scolded you enough about that. That’s not to us that ya should apologize. Ya’ll have a ton of those to say to all the Trainers ya won’t battle for a week. The only person ya should feel sorry for is yaself.”

 

The young man’s face illustrates how much he’s confused about anything Byron can tell him. He guesses he should be clearer: after all, he’s speaking to… He has to check something. In a swift move, he takes off his glove and, like he did so few times but not so long ago, takes his son’s temperature from his hand. The lack of reaction is unsurprising, but what’s under his palm is still a red flag.

“That’s what I thought! Ya’re burnin’ up, son! What made ya think it was a good idea to go work with such a fever?!”

“I… I swear I wasn’t feeling that badly this morning, I…”

 

Without any forewarning, Roark breaks down in a coughing fit, clearly pained by the entire ordeal. As a father, Byron can’t help but feel like they shouldn’t have that conversation right now, not on how to deal with a mine and a Gym at the same time. His pathetic attempts at defying paternal orders and scolds, when they’re in a disagreement over what consists in the right apology for the right reasons, just feel forced out.

“I get it, ya’re in no state to endure scolds, aren’t ya? I should have known before ya weren’t goin’ to respond back much. Y’know I ain’t much into moral speeches and all, so lemme just give ya a piece of my mind, okay?”

It’s been a long time since he had to be calm and somewhat wise. Maybe he overestimated the age of eighteen too.

 

“I can’t blame ya for comin’ to work today, ’cause I’m sure ya just wanted to make ya job and be a good foreman and whatnot. Thing is, ya’re only human, Roark. If ya’re sick, ya’re sick, that’s it. Ya’re allowed to call in, y’know? Tryin’ to hide stuff just makes you end up in that kind of situation.”

His son’s mouth opens up, wanting to reply, but Byron dismisses this with a single move of his hand.

“I know, ya’re full of what ifs. I know about the missin’ sub joke. Don’t think the mine absolutely needs ya. Of course our role’s important, but ya’re more of a burden than anything if ya can’t properly fill that position for a reason or the other.”

 

He wishes his son would just smile, even a little, but his face’s still too grim to his taste. If the entire foreman situation isn’t the issue, then why does he seem to be bummed down?

“Why the long face? What’s botherin’ ya so badly?”

“You… You’re really sure I can handle this…?

“C’mon, ya really want to go down that route? Ya’ve been in these mines and that Gym since ya were a baby. It ain’t ’cause ya messed up once that ya’re gonna mess up all the time. That’s the first incident that happens under ya watch, ya ain’t gonna fool me. Ya just need to lie down and let other people do stuff for ya while ya go on and profit of ya prime days, that’s all. See? Not hard.”

“How… how did you even handle all of this, dad? I… I feel like I barely have time to do so…”

“That’s simple. I gave myself free time and entrusted some right-arm people! Ya don’t need to handle everythin’ on ya own. No wonder why ya collapsed, if ya didn’t realize that.”

 

Despite the fact he knows he’s quite rough, and that people call his way “tough love”, Byron can’t help but feel like he messed up terribly. The expression on his son’s face is miserable, especially since it’s flushed, and that clearly wasn’t what he had in mind. He knew he had to tell him why what he did was counterproductive, but not to the point where he could ask him “are you sure you shouldn’t have entrusted me with such a thing?”.

Thing is, yeah, his son wasn’t his first choice. He wanted Riley to be Oreburgh’s next Gym Leader, and Roark knew this. Asking him on the pick wasn’t a good idea. Byron didn’t think much of it until now, where he’s scared it’s going to get used the wrong way. He has to change the topic to something happier or something, or else he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to go back to Canalave tonight.

He probably won’t be in Canalave by the time the sun sets, what is he even thinking?

 

Silence falls in the room yet again. They’re probably both too deep into their position to solve things: it’s just that, this time, the son doesn’t have the energy necessary to counter the father. That’s sad, really, and it pains him not to be able to do anything to make it any better.

“I think I’ll stay for a few days in Oreburgh. Mind hostin’ me?” he asked, trying to give his best smile.

“W-what…?! Dad, I thought you were busy, and there has to be challengers in the Gym…!”

The distress is a small change from the ashamed long face.

“I think we need to catch up on each other, it’s been a while since we last trained together. I’m also certain ya can’t take care of yaself on ya own right now.”

A small snicker escapes Roark’s mouth.

“Yeah…”

 

He looks away.

“Huh, by the way, dad… Thanks for today… I’m not very talkative today, so… I hope you weren’t speaking to a wall…”

“It’s nothi’! I’m your dad, that’s my job to care for ya, even when ya flew away on ya own!”

The worst will be to call Canalave Gym and explain what’s exactly what keeps the Leader in Oreburgh.

**Author's Note:**

> I tagged this "video game universe" on FF.net but is Nurse Joy and derived valid for that  
> also FF.net is garbage


End file.
